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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371675">carry on</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills'>randomfills (spnfanatic)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Gabriel (Supernatural), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hunter Dean Winchester, Hunter Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, The Colt (Supernatural), Vampires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:40:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U to canon. John Winchester has been missing since trying to find the colt. His son, Dean Winchester, catches wind of the colt in a nest of vampires. On his way to see if his brother wants to join him on a mission to find the colt and save their father, he meets a fellow hunter by the name of Gabe who has a sweet tooth and a knack for getting on Dean’s nerves. Gabe is also looking for his brother and decides to tag along on Dean’s journey to rescue John Winchester…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gabriel &amp; Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>carry on</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I wanted to write a Dean/Gabriel story for a while now. I'm a pretty big Debriel shipper. Honestly not sure if I'm going to bring Sam into this story and not sure which angel to bring in as Gabe's brother. Let me know if you have any suggestions. I think this will probably just be a debriel story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All Dean wanted was a drink. He was still a couple days drive from Sammy’s apartment and he knew he wasn’t going to get back on the road until noon tomorrow. He gazed down at the glass in front of him, imagining the conversation he’d have to have with his brother. He grimaced just thinking about Sammy’s bitch face, and the inevitable shouting once he couldn’t hide the fact that one of the reasons Dean was even there was because their father was in trouble. He rubbed the side of his face tiredly. God, he hadn’t seen his baby brother in years. Kid decided to go no contact with Dean once he left for Stanford. Didn’t so much as give his brother a backwards glance once he climbed on the bus and flashed the bus driver his ticket. “It wasn’t just a one way ticket to your dreams of an apple pie life, Sammy. It was a one way ticket out of mine,” he mumbled into his glass, before deciding to drain it.</p><p>Fuck. The rush of alcohol burned as it slid down his throat. He looked up to grab the bartender’s attention. The man turned and glanced at Dean with that knowing look that said he knew exactly how the hunter was feeling right now and don’t worry ‘bout a fucking thing. He refilled Dean’s glass, watched as he drained that one as well. Dean smiled, “Thanks,” and felt around his jacket for his wallet. He fished out a wad of cash and left the man a generous tip. He was feeling good after just a couple of glasses and glanced around to the far corner of the room, taking in a small crowd gathered by one of the pool tables. His grin turned feral once he scanned a few patrons handing around wads of cash. There was a guy with curly dark brown hair who was smirking as he was handed a bunch of money. He leaned against the table, one of the pool cues in his other hand. He glanced over at Dean and gave him a wink. Dean took that was his cue to head over. He ignored the way the guy’s eyes were looking him up and down appreciatively. He didn’t care if this guy was trying to flirt with him. A marked target was still just that.</p><p>“So,” Dean said as he leaned against the table, giving the guy a once over as well. He hadn’t noticed the sucker in the man’s mouth until the guy raised an eyebrow and crunched on the candy. “You up for a quick game? You seem to be pretty good,” he said, gesturing to the small mound of cash the guy tried to stuff in his jacket pocket. A couple bills stuck out.</p><p>The guy glanced down and then back up at Dean. He shrugged, the smile on his face hadn’t left, “Think I just got lucky.”</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe that for one second but he could humor the guy if he wanted to lie. The man was too relaxed in his stance. Dean knew a hustler when he saw one. He picked up one of the pool cues sitting on the table, ignoring the way the other patrons were forming a small crowd around them. “Well if that’s how you got all that money, what do you say to a friendly little game with a beginner?” He gave the guy his own dazzling grin.</p><p>The guy blinked, before turning to the table and picking up the small 8-ball. He glanced up at Dean through long lashes and said, “Beginner, you say? You’re on.”</p><p>Never hustle a hustler, was one of the first things Dean learned early on growing up on the road with just his brother, Sammy, and their father. Growing up in motel rooms in different towns in different states, sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks...Dean learned that their father didn’t often count the amount of cash he left them with and a lot of times money was tight. Dean had to learn how to make money when he was a kid who had no prospects of getting a job because he was either underage or they weren’t going to stay long enough for his first couple weeks of training. Oftentimes they needed the money now, for rent, for food and drinks, for Sammy’s school supplies or clothes because his brother didn’t know how to stop growing. Living on the road wasn’t easy for a kid but Dean was a quick learner and he decided early on that he didn’t care how he made money as long as Sammy didn’t starve.</p><p>He found ways to make money under the table. He’d sneak into bars and learned to play pool and count cards. He knew the tells of a good player from a quick glance. And this guy, this guy standing across from him, pretending that he just took a stumbling step forward and made a lucky corner shot, he was good. He was really good.</p><p>He fumbled an easy shot and glanced up at Dean with an embarrassed smile, “Whoops. Guess it’s your turn. See? Told you I just got lucky. I’m really not good at this game. I don’t even know why I play.”</p><p>Liar, Dean thought, but walked around to make his move anyway.</p>
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